


Life From A New Perspective

by Moosie



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: All-powerful-being, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, BAMF!Bilbo, M/M, So he's kind of an, This is just my excuse to write Bilbo as an extremely powerful character, almost
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-01-06 20:16:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moosie/pseuds/Moosie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo Baggins was a Baggins of Bag End. But he was also a Took. And being the son of the greatest Hobbit Herbologist of all time and one of the only living Hobbits to ever have magic and be able to use it was an obvious sign that he was destined for something great. Bilbo understood what his mother wanted for him and traveled all of Middle-Earth in his youth. But he also understood what his father wanted for him and came back and settled in the Shire, satisfied to spend the rest of his days keeping it protected and helping the people as well as he could.</p><p>Those plans are changed, of course, when Gandalf arrives and there are thirteen Dwarves trailing behind him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Baggins of Bag End

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo this is my first Tolkien story. Mind you, I've only read/seen the Hobbit, so I'm probably gonna be pretty far off with characterization and even timelines and the like. So be patient with me! All I know is what I've read in the book/seen in the movies/gotten from the fandom(fics, art, the like) so don't fault me too much, alright? I accept any and all constructive criticism, as it would help to better me. Also, as stated quite clearly in the tags, this was just an excuse to write a Bilbo that was much more powerful than the Dwarves first assumed but never thought it prevalent to say so/has been further than the Dwarves assume and so is familiar with Lord Elrond, Thranduil, and others which comes as a surprise to the Dwarves. It was inspired while scrolling through the Hobbit Kink Meme on LJ but seeing as this fills none of them it's all by its lonesome. Enjoy! ^_^

Bilbo Baggins was a Baggins of Bag End. He was the only son of Bungo Baggins, the greatest Hobbit herbologist of all time, who could kill you with the right flowers and knew just from looking at a simple bouquet whether or not one of the young lads was breaking up with a young lass over something that would more than likely be trivial. Bungo Baggins was looked upon as one of the most valued Hobbits in all of the Shire, because Bungo Baggins was who kept the children out of the fields of Baby’s Breath and stopped them from eating Buttercups when they came extremely close.

But Bilbo Baggins was also a Took. He was the only son of Belladonna Took, the only Hobbit to have magic of any kind and be able to use it. She was mainly a healer, but she was not always in the Shire, as she her Took blood typically took her far away from the Shire in hopes of finding adventure, and adventure she found whenever she went away. Belladonna Took, also one of the most valued Hobbits in all of the Shire, had kept their lands safe with spells and enchantments the likes of Middle-Earth had never seen before, and it was assumed that she would always be around to protect the Shire.

However, it was never thought that Belladonna Took would marry Bungo Baggins. Together, they became one of the most powerful couples the world had ever seen. Belladonna passed some of her magic to Bungo, allowing him to feel the emotions and feelings of the plants, while Bungo passed his knowledge to Belladonna, helping her in her quests to know when something was poisonous and she shouldn’t even give it a second glance, and know when she could eat berries that would keep her alive while she had no food.

Another thing no one ever thought would happen was that they would have a child together. Bilbo Baggins was the reason why things went wrong during the Fell Winter, Bilbo Baggins was why the Shire was under attack by Wargs and Orcs when the Shire should have been protected during the entire winter. Bilbo Baggins, son of Bungo Baggins and Belladonna Took, was the reason why his parents were dead.

It was during the Fell Winter that it happened. Belladonna couldn’t keep the barrier she had erected up in the harsh cold, for the horrible weather was what weakened her. Bilbo, young and naïve, had gone out when his parents had explicitly told him not to. Only a child in his tween years, Bilbo had gone off into the forest, only half-way through his lessons and training, and tried to defend the Shire all by himself. His parents knew what was happening; they knew everything about Bilbo, for he was their child, and they were all connected in a way that the folk of the Shire would never understand.

Belladonna and Bungo had gone to save their only child, for he was part of an intricate prophecy that needed to be fulfilled.

And find him they did, lying at an Orc’s feet dying and gasping for the air that didn’t seem to want to fill his lungs. They did what they could, breaking from their gentlehobbit personalities and taking the life of the Orc that took their sons. They took poor Bilbo into their arms, held him close and wept, for their son was dead and without him, the world would see an eternal darkness. Belladonna knew of a way to bring their child back to them, but he would be alone, for the price of one life was double that.

Bungo Baggins was not a foolish man. He was intelligent and had an extensive knowledge and knew that, without him, the Shire would be confused and lost. But with Bilbo, they would be found again.

And so, Belladonna and Bungo Baggins died that night, breathing their life into their only son so that he may continue on. Bilbo Baggins took in a staggering breath, and once he realized where he was, and worse, that his parents were no longer with him, he wept for they had given their lives for his, and it wasn’t what he deserved, not for being a disobedient child who hadn’t listened to his parents, who had told him not to go out. Had he only listened, they would still be alive.

Bilbo Baggins buried his parents in the forest, beneath the Earth, knowing that it was what they would have wanted more than anything, to be returned to the soil and welcomed by Yavanna in the Green Fields. For a full day and night Bilbo Baggins sat at his parents graves, mourning them. He wept until his tears were no more, and he could do no more but promise that their sacrifice would not be in vain.

So home Bilbo Baggins went, once promises were made and the mourning finished. He would have to finish his studies and training alone, without his parents’ guidance. He would have to keep to his mother’s wishes and travel all of Middle-Earth to understand the flow and energy of the world better than he did, and he would have to protect the Shire with the same incantations and spells his mother had, while helping the people when they were in need of herbs to cure fevers like his father had.

And so he did.

\-----

Smoke rings were all Bilbo thought to be blowing as he sat in front of his home, relaxing contently. He had no knowledge of visitors showing up, for he had asked the people of the Shire to leave him be when he was not out and about. When he was beyond his gate or in his home and there wasn’t someone dying or any other type of emergency, he wanted to be left to his own devices. There was no reason that anyone should need to bother him, not when he was already doing everything in his nature to keep the gentlehobbits of the Shire safe.

So it was quite the shock when Bilbo peeked his eyes open and found a tall person, more Man than anything else, towering above him. There began another of Bilbo Baggins’ adventures.

“Good Morning!” was what he greeted the Man with, and the reply he got told him immediately that this Man was someone who knew his way around words and was definitely not just a Man. In fact, once Bilbo got a better look at him, the Man was not a simple Man, but rather, Gandalf the Grey. Bilbo knew that nothing good could possibly come from having Gandalf the Grey on his doorstep. Or maybe, all the good in the world could come from it.

That night, when Bilbo sat down at his table for dinner for one, he somewhat expected the knock at his door. He figured, in his mind, that it was Gandalf once more, come to whisk him away on this adventure he had spoken of. When Bilbo opened the door, however, the person that stood there was not Gandalf, but a Dwarf. Taller than him and with a bald, tattooed head, the Dwarf bowed his head and looked him straight in the eye.

“Dwalin. At your service,” he introduced.

Bilbo blinked, confused a bit, but mimicked the action. “Bilbo Baggins… At yours.”

Dwalin looked at him and then marched pass, looking around the rather large Hobbit Hole that was Bag End. Bilbo stared at him from the door as Dwalin tossed his cloak at him and then turned toward the dining area, talking of supper. Bilbo watched as Dwalin sat down and began devouring the supper he had set out for himself. He resigned himself to sitting behind Dwalin, watching as the Dwarf consumed the food he had set out for the night.

Dwalin was the first Dwarf to show up that night, but not the last. The sound of the bell at the door had Bilbo pausing as he handed the bowl of biscuits (that he’d baked just that morning) to Dwalin.

“That’ll be the door,” Dwalin stated rather obviously. Bilbo refused to glare at him, instead heading toward the door even as he felt  Dwalin standing and moving toward the jar of freshly baked cookies on the mantelpiece.

Just as Bilbo had thought, Dwalin was the first Dwarf, but most certainly not the last.

\-----

“He looks more like a grocer than a burglar.”

If Bilbo hadn’t had his father’s seemingly endless patience he would have hexed Thorin Oakenshield right then and there. Or maybe he would have given him a cluster of Hyacinth, just to irritate him. But Bilbo did have the patience of his father, and it definitely showed when he vehemently refused to outright trip Thorin up with his magic. Gandalf stood back, his shoulders quaking in a fashion that made it seem like he was simply choking a bit, but Bilbo knew the Man better than that, and shot Gandalf a look that would have scared anyone, had the person the look was directed at not been Gandalf. And Gandalf just laughed harder.

When Bilbo walked back into the dining area, stuffed as it was with Dwarves, they were talking about a quest.

“You’re going on a quest?” he questioned, surprised.

“Ah, Bilbo! How about a little more light? Bring a candle.” Bilbo blinked at being ordered around in the fashion that he was, but did as he was told. He didn’t understand why it was Gandalf had requested a candle when he knew very well that Bilbo could have created a simple fire without a candle, something Gandalf himself had taught him. When he came back, they were referring to a map, and Bilbo hummed as he read it.

“The Lonely Mountain?”

Oh, if he’d only known what it meant to know that name.

He gained a bit of an explanation from Gandalf and Thorin, and then the contract from Balin. He grew more and more apprehensive as he read it, before finally he got to the part stating possible injuries or cause of death. And then he gained the description of what it meant to be _incinerated_ from Bofur and promptly fainted.

He woke sitting in his chair, and Gandalf handed him a mug of warm tea. He sat for a long while before Gandalf approached him.

“I’ll be alright, just—let me sit quietly, for a moment,” Bilbo requested.

“You’ve been sitting quietly for far too long!” Gandalf chided. He simply couldn’t believe that his old friends’ only child could behave in such a way, especially since Bilbo had been all over Middle-Earth when he was younger.

“Tell me, what happened to the Hobbit that had promised his parents he would stop at nothing to help people? What happened to the young Hobbit that saved an entire town from a plague that was in its water supply with, of all things, _Iris_? I remember that Hobbit very well!” Gandalf was ranting, and Bilbo smiled a bit in remembering the town in question. Had he not been there when he had they all would have died within the month. The thought was rather tragic, but when everyone was safe and no one under the threat of dying anymore, there had been a huge celebration in Bilbo’s name. He still received letters from the people of the town.

The story about his Uncle Bullroarer was probably what helped in making him leave the next morning, but Bilbo would never admit such a thing to Gandalf, especially after finding out the next day that Gandalf had taken bets. And if Gandalf couldn’t light his pipe for an hour or two afterwards… well, that wasn’t _explicitly_ Bilbo’s fault.

The Dwarves’ song was what sent Bilbo to sleep later that night, the sound of their harmonious voices fueling dreams of saving kingdoms and slaying dragons. And so what if, the very next morning, he put a sign on his door that read “ADVENTURING, SHALL RETURN ALIVE” and ran off to the Dwarves? It was nobody’s business but his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from New Perspective by Panic! At the Disco but not at all associated with that song in any way.


	2. The Expert On Plants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo knows quite a bit about plants and gardening. His intellect saves Fili and Kili, and then the entire Company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the quotes came from the actual movie, just so you all know.

The first night on the road had Bilbo waking up to the sound of the most horrid snoring. He looked around and, once finding the source of the noise, stood. He stretched a bit, sighing when he felt his back pop in several places. Sleeping on the ground was much different than sleeping in a nice, warm, comfortable bed. He hadn’t done it in so long it would definitely take a bit of getting used to. Though he’d never get used to the horrible snoring from Bombur, it brought back some of the best memories, to be sleeping by the fire with acquaintances.

Bilbo walked over to Myrtle, a fond smile on his face. Though he’d never really liked horses, she had already grown on him. Maybe it was the way he’d simply… connected with her. The other Dwarves had tried to give him a different pony, a black mare, but it was incredibly obvious that they wouldn’t connect. He merely glanced at Myrtle and almost immediately he was infatuated with her. He’d made it incredibly clear that he wanted her instead. Because she was unoccupied, he’d been allowed to have her.

“Hello, girl,” he greeted her with a warm smile, gently stroking a hand down her face. Glancing back, he pulled an apple from his pocket and fed it to her.

“Our little secret,” he chuckled. The sound of screams had him glancing up, and he frowned. He looked back to Fili and Kili, who were awake and acutely aware of the noise.

“What was that?” he asked, but he knew he didn’t have to. He knew exactly what that was. When the two Dwarves told him, he found himself just as unamused as Thorin. A night raid by Orcs was _not_ anything funny, not when you’ve seen them first hand and know the damage and devastation they cause. Though, he thought that Thorin’s comment about them knowing nothing of the world was a bit uncalled for.

“Don’t mind him, laddie,” Balin piped in, a kind smile on his face. Bilbo glanced over at him, and then at Thorin.

The tale of the Battle of Moria was one Bilbo had heard before, from other Dwarves. However, he’d never heard it first hand, and he knew from hearing the story from Balin that the versions he kept hearing weren’t the truth. For, while most had mentioned the pale Gundabad Orc that was Azog the Defiler, they hadn’t talked of the way Thorin had cut off Azog’s hand nor how he’d driven them back by leading the Dwarves forth. It was something that left him in awe.

Bilbo looked back at Balin, who was smiling as he stared over at Thorin. And though he wanted to ask more questions about Thorin, there was one that pushed to the forefront of his mind. “And the pale Orc, what happened to him?”

Surprisingly, it was Thorin that gave him his answer. “He slunk back into the hole whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago.”

Bilbo glanced over at him, and then at Gandalf. Gandalf would not meet his eyes, leaving Bilbo to speculate as to why. That night, if he slept marginally closer to Thorin than the others did, well. It wasn’t anyone else’s business but his.

\------

The rain was extremely undesirable, but Bilbo knew he could manage. After all, it could have been much worse. He refused a bit of a chuckle when one of the Dwarves asked Gandalf if he could do anything about the weather. Bilbo knew first hand that of all the wizards in the world to ask about changing the weather, Gandalf most certainly was _not_ one of them. Though it did raise questions he hadn’t asked before.

“Are there any?” he questioned. Gandalf looked at him.

“What?” Gandalf asked.

“Other wizards.”

“There are five of us. The greatest of us is Saruman—the White,” he replied. “Then there are the two blue wizards… You know, I’ve quite forgotten their names.”

Bilbo rolled his eyes. Leave it to Gandalf to forget the names of his fellow wizards. “And who is the fifth?”

“Well, that would be Radagast. The Brown.”

“Is he a great wizard or is he… More like you?” Bilbo couldn’t help his crack at Gandalf. He knew from his mother’s tales that Gandalf was a great wizard. Though, in his opinion, no one would ever be a greater witch or wizard than his mother.

Gandalf sent Bilbo a glare. “I think he’s a very great wizard… in his own way.”

Bilbo listened to Gandalf’s description of Radagast and hummed. Maybe he was an okay wizard if he protected the forests to the East.

When the rain had finally stopped, so did they. They decided it would be a good idea to hang their things up to dry a bit. Bilbo sat on a fallen tree trunk with his things next to him. He really didn’t want to wait as long as he probably should have for his things to dry, so instead, he reached into the back of his mind for drying spell his mother had taught him. It was one of the ones that she’d taught him just for fun, simply because it had been raining that day as well and the laundry hadn’t had enough time to dry.

Looking at his clothing, he waved a hand over them and breathed the spell as quietly as possible. It took only seconds for his clothing to completely dry, and once they were, he pulled them on. He sighed happily, feeling as though he had pulled on freshly laundered clothing, even though they hadn’t been explicitly washed. He stood, ready to go and dote on Myrtle possibly, when he caught the words of (who he believed to be) Gloin.

“Blimey, our clothes are already dry!” he was saying. Bilbo looked over at them, his eyes wide and then at Gandalf, who was finally able to light his pipe.

“It’s a wonder how that happened so quickly, isn’t it?” Gandalf mused, sounding wise.

“Thank you, Gandalf,” the Dwarves began to say. Bilbo almost felt offended when Gandalf said nothing to dissuade them from believing that it was he who had dried their clothing. However, Bilbo let it go, for, they were just clothes. It wasn’t as though he had just saved any of their lives and Gandalf had taken credit for it.

Bilbo sat down once more, though, deciding that he simply wanted to bask in the sun a bit. He closed his eyes and tilted his head up, a sigh of content leaving him as he felt slightly rejuvenated. It felt wonderful to sit by himself in the sun after a bout of rain. However, he was not allowed to sit alone for long, as another person came and sat next to him.

“Hm?” he hummed and peeked an eye open. To his left was one of the younger Dwarves. Ori he believed.

“Master Baggins, I’ve been meaning to ask you something for a while,” Ori smiled shyly. Bilbo found that, even though some of the Dwarves had been extremely rude to him, Ori was rather nice.

“Well, go on then. Ask away,” Bilbo smiled back.

Ori’s smile brightened a bit and he pulled out his quill and parchment. “I looked at some of your books when we were in your home; you had a lot of them on plants. Do all Hobbits like plants?”

Bilbo thought about that question for a moment. Very technically, he had many books on plants because he was pretty much required to know all of them. His father had written most of the books on plants back in Bag End with help from his mother, who brought strange and exotic plants back from her adventures for him to figure out. If there was one thing that had made Bungo Baggins odd, it was that he loved plants more than any other Hobbit.

“Most Hobbits are gardeners by nature. Though really, I’ve got more books on plants and the like than anyone. Now, there are some Hobbits that aren’t as good at gardening, like Lobelia Sackville-Baggins…”

Bilbo had never seen someone so interested in one of his plants rants as Ori had been. By the time he’d finished, Ori had filled a whole roll of parchment and looked eager to fill another. Bilbo would have been happy to go into another diatribe had he not glanced Fili and Kili tumbling around near a patch of—hang on, was that a patch of Stinging Nettle? Immediately he was up and trying to get them to possibly move away from the plants, feeling like he did whenever the fauntlings of the Shire got too close to them.

Fili and Kili were confused as to why they needed to move away until Bilbo explained to them that the particular species that they had been extremely close to touching would have caused terrible skin rashes within a few hours of them touching it.

“But it looks harmless,” Fili frowned, glancing at the bush he and Kili had been headed towards.

“Yes and so does Poison Ivy but you don’t touch that, now, do you?” Bilbo chided. “And honestly, do the two of you always go tumbling in the grass when there are unknown plants around you?”

“Well… Yes. Plants are harmless anyway, aren’t they?” Kili questioned, though now he was looking at all of the plants around them in a confused fashion.

“Oh yes, harmless until you try to burn Caladium, and then you’ve lost your eye sight!” Bilbo ranted. He shook his head slightly, his gaze softening a bit when he noticed how they were now looking at every single plant around them.

“Just be a little more careful where you are. If you don’t recognize it straight away, don’t go near it. And if you’re confused, just let me know. I can pick out a thing or two about certain plants,” Bilbo smiled. He turned and walked away, prepared to go back and finish his conversation with Ori when Thorin called for them to pack up so that they could continue moving.

Bilbo heaved a heavy sigh but did as told, going over to Myrtle and, after giving her another apple, mounting her. He fell in place with everyone else, though now he had three young Dwarves surrounding him, two of which pointed at any and every plant they saw and asked him exactly what they were. He was, admittedly, a little rusty in pointing out what everything was. But with each plant he could name he felt it all coming back to him, and was reminded of when he was young and his parents had still been alive. How his father would quiz him whenever he felt as though Bilbo were slacking.

They trekked on for a few miles, seven or eight it felt like to Bilbo, before they stopped at a small dilapidated house, where Thorin declared they would rest for the night. Fili and Kili would have continued asking Bilbo about the plants around them had Thorin not told them to look after the ponies. Ori was pulled away by Dori, who was doting on him just as he had been during the first day of their journey. Bilbo was left standing next to Balin, and actually managed to strike up a conversation with the Dwarf.

Bilbo was taken completely by surprise, though, when Gandalf stormed off, angry for whatever reason. Bilbo looked at Thorin and could tell by one simple look that it was he who had made the Wizard upset. He looked back at Balin.

“Is he coming back?” he questioned. Balin’s expression told him that the Dwarf had not a single clue. Bilbo looked at Thorin, sending a disapproving look his way once he and Thorin’s eyes had met. Thorin looked away almost immediately.

Hours later and Gandalf still had not returned. Bilbo was becoming the slightest bit worried for his friend. He had stated so as he walked by Bofur.

“He’s a wizard! He does as he chooses,” Bofur reassured. He had just finished filling two bowls and he looked at Bilbo. “Do us a favor? Take this to the lads.”

Bilbo took the two bowls in his hands and sighed a bit. He turned, though, and went off to find Fili and Kili. He knew that when he found them they would probably be curious about more plants, so he prepared himself to be bombarded with more questions.

He was not prepared, however, when he found the two Dwarves looking shocked and perplexed.

“…What’s the matter?” he asked when they did not take the bowls he was offering them.

“We’re supposed to be looking after the ponies,” Kili replied.

“Only, we’ve encountered a slight problem,” Fili continued.

“We had sixteen.”

“Now we have fourteen.”

Bilbo looked back at the horses and counted them. Indeed there were only fourteen ponies when there should have been sixteen. He looked around, trying to figure out where they could have gone. Fili and Kili were moving then, taking roll for the horses, before coming together and moving further into the wood around them.

“Daisy and Bongo are missing,” Kili stated.

“Well, that’s not good,” Bilbo decided. He followed Kili. “And _that’s_ even worse!”

Now he was referring to the trees that had been uprooted. He got a better look at them and saw that they were rather young maple trees. Couldn’t have been older than about seventy-six years. But that wasn’t the most concerning part. The most concerning part was the fact that maple trees weren’t easily uprooted, so something large had to have uprooted them. Something large and possibly quite dangerous.

“Shouldn’t we tell Thorin?” he suggested.

“Err, no. Best not to worry him,” Fili coughed. “As our burglar we thought that maybe… you’d like to look into it.”

“We’ve pretty much guessed that something huge knocked these trees down,” Kili added in.

“Right,” Bilbo drawled. He was about to tell them that it would be wiser to tell Thorin when Fili looked to his left, spotting something in the distance.

“Look—there’s a light,” he crouched down and moved behind one of the fallen trees. Kili followed his lead, and Bilbo had no choice but to do the same.

“What is it?” he asked, because he couldn’t quite see. Kili, on the other hand, could see what was beyond the trees perfectly.

“Trolls,” he spat, as though the word on his tongue were disgusting.

He and Fili jumped over the tree they were behind, heading in the direction of the light. Bilbo couldn’t help but follow, the two bowls of food in his hand cold but not forgotten. They took up spots behind trees as they heard the stomping over another troll go by. Bilbo glanced at it and immediately felt as though it had made a personal threat against him with his next statement.

“He’s got Myrtle and Mindy!” He somewhat hissed. Oh, if he weren’t determined to do something then he was definitely determined now! “I think they’re going to eat them, we have to do something!”

Both Fili and Kili looked at him, and then Kili jumped up, grabbing one of the bowls from his hands. “Yes—you should! Mountain trolls are slow and stupid and you’re small and clever, they’ll never see you!”

Bilbo was prepared to protest when Fili suddenly jumped up as well, grabbing the other bowl. He pushed Bilbo forth. “If you run into trouble, hoot twice like a brown owl, and once like a barn owl.”

Bilbo was walking forward, repeating what Fili had told him when it suddenly occurred to him that he didn’t know how to hoot like an owl at all. He glanced back to say so when he found that they were gone. He would’ve cursed if not for the trolls suddenly yelling something about mutton, and then Bilbo headed toward them, deciding he needed to follow if he wanted to save the four ponies from being eaten. He stayed hidden as he moved toward the makeshift pen the trolls had placed the ponies in.

The knots were nearly impossible to undo, but a bit of magic solved that problem quickly. However, he still needed to cut through the ropes, as he found that parts of them were stuck in place. He hadn’t brought a knife with him, figuring he didn’t need it, but it looked like he’d have to take the knife off one of the trolls if he wanted to cut the ropes.

Things were going smoothly up until he was caught. Then things descended into chaos.

\------

Troll sacks were decidedly disgusting. Bilbo felt like he’d need several baths before he got the stench off of himself entirely. He’d only ever encountered trolls once before while traveling, and they had been a lot nicer then. Maybe that was because Bilbo had helped them get back into their cave when the Men had found it. Though he’d known he shouldn’t have, at that point in his life he’d wanted to be helpful to any and every one. Halflings were known to be rather persuasive, so all he needed to do was negotiate with the Men a bit to get them to leave.

If these trolls were to ask him for help with getting Men out of their cave, Bilbo would have immediately said no.

In the confusion of battle, he had managed to get the ponies free, but in his haste he had left himself open and his limbs were grabbed by huge hands that held him tight. He’d nearly had his arms and legs ripped off! Had the Dwarves not thrown down their arms, he was sure he’d have died that day. And from trolls of all things! Currently, half of the Dwarves were tied to a large stick and being slowly roasted over a large fire.

Bilbo squirmed in his sack, trying to think of something, anything, to help his friends. Listening to the trolls’ conversation, he felt sick as they talked about different ways to kill and eat the others. One bit, however, immediately caught his attention.

“Wait, wait!” he shouted, managing to stand. “You are making a huge mistake!”

“Wha’re you on about?” the troll turning the stick demanded.

“The seasoning, you see, you’re not doing it right!” Bilbo rambled. The trolls suddenly seemed interested in what he had to say.

“Wha’ about the seasonin’?” the troll that was the cook inquired.

“See, as a Hobbit, I know what spices you should and shouldn’t put on certain foods.” Bilbo nodded. “And when you cook Dwarf, you should put a lot of, uh, this! In the pot first.”

Bilbo was now gesturing to an extremely large bush. The trolls all looked at it, and the cook frowned before walking over to it.

“And wha’s this?” he asked.

“It’s nutmeg, haven’t you ever seen it before?” Bilbo snapped, trying to seem impatient with the troll.

It seemed to have worked, for the troll plucked up pretty much the entire bush and walked back over to his pot. He shoved what was in his hands into it, and stirred the contents of the pot around. Bilbo held his breath as the troll tasted the broth to see if it was good enough. Apparently, it liked what it tasted, for it drank more of it. Bilbo looked at the other two trolls.

“Aren’t you going to taste it as well? If you all don’t like it then I’ll have to recommend something else entirely!” he nagged. Only one of the other trolls walked over to the pot to try some as well.

The last seemed skeptical, and he had every reason to be once he saw the other two trolls suddenly drop dead. Bilbo looked at the last troll, the largest one.

“Wha’re you playin’ at? Wha was in that pot?” the troll demanded, walking over to jab one of his fat fingers at Bilbo.

“Nutmeg! That’s all that was, I assure you!” Bilbo nodded.

“I don’ believe you! There was somethin’ else in that pot!” The troll accused. Bilbo would have been done for had Gandalf not suddenly shown up and exposed the troll to sunlight. Almost instantly it turned to stone, as did the bodies of the other two trolls.

Once everyone was free, the Dwarves all crowded around Bilbo.

“What was that?” they asked, “and how did you know it would kill them?”

Bilbo took a step back and continued wiping off his clothing a bit before he actually answered.

“That… was the Castor plant. Highly poisonous to any being on Middle-Earth in certain dosages. I had no idea how much would be needed to kill them to be honest, but I knew a large amount would suffice,” he supplied as an honest answer.

“And to think we thought you couldn’t do anything!” Nori praised. Bilbo didn’t know whether to feel flattered or insulted at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to look up a lot of plant stuff for this okay I was on at least seven different websites trying to make sure I had my facts straight because I didn't want to pull any out of my ear.


	3. The Friend Of Elves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the business with the trolls, Thorin and Company head to Rivendell, where Bilbo seems to be _extremely_ familiar with the Lord and his sons...

The troll cave wasn’t something Bilbo was surprised to see. But he could smell it from where he stood almost ten feet away and it smelled horrible. He didn’t think the troll cave he’d helped to regain had smelled at all like this all those years ago. But then again, Bilbo’s memory was beginning to go so he didn’t exactly have a clue about whether or not it had smelled as bad. But he was nearly positive that it hadn’t!

Currently, he was being asked questions by members of the Company. It was mainly the younger Dwarves, who were once again enraptured by his extensive knowledge on plants. They were asking him all sorts of questions about any and everything, just like they had before the troll encounter. Bilbo felt as though their questions rivaled the quizzes his father used to give him, especially since they all wanted in depth answers (that he most certainly was _not_ giving them). Bilbo found himself thinking of a summer day he’d spent in doors instead of out adventuring because he’d failed to answer his father’s questions.

“What’s this?”

“Chicory. Edible.”

“This?”

“Fireweed. Also edible.”

“What about this?”

“Hemlock—don’t touch it! Wash your hands off, quickly, you don’t want a rash!”

They were all like rather large children, and Bilbo appreciated that. He probably would never have a child of his own, so when the opportunity to fawn over children (even if they were considered adults; they were just out of their childhood, Bilbo would consider them children until they became wiser) arose, he took it. Fili, Kili, and Ori were as innocent as they come, especially compared to the other Dwarves around them. They wanted to know more of the world, and if Bilbo could have his way, he’d whisk them away on an adventure that would keep them safe from danger and show them that Middle-Earth was kinder than the leader of their company made it out to be.

And speaking of their leader, Thorin was emerging from the troll cave, a new sword at his side. Bilbo made it a point to catch his eye and sent a tiny smile his way. They had begun communicating like this, with simple glances and facial expressions. The hard look on Thorin’s face softened and Bilbo saw a tiny quirk of the lips that made his own smile grow. Though there were times when Bilbo wished that Thorin wasn’t so harsh and cold-hearted, the little emotion that he was shown made him swell with an odd happiness in his heart. If he knew where a patch of any of it was, Bilbo would have presented Thorin with a bouquet of Lavender and Amethyst.

 _Though Thorin is a king,_ he thought to himself, frowning a bit suddenly, _he wouldn’t like flowers all that much._

Thorin seemed to noticed the little frown on his face, for he had been prepared to walk over and say something when Gandalf appeared from down in the cave. His appearance reminded Bilbo that he needed to talk with Gandalf anyway, and he was prepared to tell him when he walked over when Gandalf suddenly presented him with a sword. The sword made Bilbo blink in surprise, as, while his mother and the Elves had trained him a bit in the handling of a sword, he’d never in his life had to use one.

“Gandalf, you know how I feel about swords,” Bilbo was beginning to say, but Gandalf cut him off.

“The blade is of elvish make. You understand what that means,” Gandalf said.

“Yes, it will glow blue when Orcs or Goblins are near, I remember that. But I’ve never had to use a sword in my life.” Bilbo looked back at the Dwarves to make sure none of them were listening in on them.

“And I hope you never have to, my friend.” Gandalf sighed a deep and heavy sigh. “But if you do, remember this. True courage… Is about knowing, not when to take a life, but when to spare one.”

Bilbo looked Gandalf in the eye. If he’d known what his “courage” would cost the world in the future, he would never have listened to Gandalf. But just then, in that moment, the Dwarves began to shout. Gandalf followed behind them quickly, drawing his own sword so that he may follow the others, yelling for them to arm themselves. Bilbo, on the other hand, drew his sword and looked at it. It was heavy in his hands, but he ignored the feeling and followed after the others.

Just as with the situation with the trolls, things quickly descended into chaos.

\------

Bilbo surprised everyone when he breathed a happy sigh upon entering the Valley of Imladris, which was known by the name Rivendell. They had arrived at the Last Homely House, one of the places Bilbo had been to many when he was young. Rivendell had welcomed him in his younger years, first as the son of Belladonna Took, and then as Bilbo Baggins, who was often consulted about crops of vegetables, as he proved to be much more knowledgeable than Belladonna had been (though they had never met her husband, Bungo, but that was because he’d adamantly refused to go on any adventures. Had they met him, they would have seen that Bilbo was a novice in comparison to his father).

After Gandalf basically told Thorin to keep his mouth shut (in more words that were sprinkled with niceness; Bilbo had snorted a laugh) they made their way down to the front gates. Bilbo felt as though he were visiting a second home once again, one he had not been to in ages and had missed dearly. He’d missed everyone that lived in Rivendell, though not more than he missed the two Elves who had been his companions whenever he stayed in the Last Homely House; Lord Elrond’s two sons, Elladan and Elrohir

(Though he did enjoy his time with Arwen as well, he preferred the company of the twins.)

Lindir seemed rather pleased to see two old friends once again. Bilbo was giddy on his feet, so much so that he forgot his manners and actually _hugged_ Lindir. Taken by surprise, the Elf thought it only polite to return the hug, though somewhat awkwardly, considering that he knew Bilbo Baggins and Bilbo Baggins was not usually one for hugs. Bilbo had no knowledge of the eyes boring into the back of his head, a look of utter fury that passed over to the Elf. If it were possible for looks to kill, there was a chance that Lindir would have combusted spontaneously.

“What brings the two of you here?” Lindir was finally able to ask after Bilbo had let go. Bilbo was prepared to answer honestly.

“Well-”

“We need to speak with Lord Elrond,” Gandalf cut in, keeping Bilbo from revealing the true nature of their quest.

“My Lord Elrond is not here,” Lindir replied, although it was slightly stiff.

Bilbo was slightly disgruntled at being cut off from the conversation, but that was nothing compared to how he felt when he heard the sound of hooves and the Dwarves suddenly pulling him into the center of them, creating a huge circle around him. He was rather annoyed up until the horses came to a halt and three familiar faces came into view. Lord Elrond and his two sons dismounted from their horses to greet their old friends and the Dwarves.

“Gandalf,” Elrond nodded to the wizard first, but once he’d spotted Bilbo, his smile widened. “And Bilbo Baggins!”

Bilbo had to push his way through the Dwarves in order to get to Lord Elrond for a hug. Elrond seemed glad to see two old friends once again. Though, unlike Lindir, he noticed the murderous look being sent his way simply for touching Bilbo. It made him smile all the wider, for he could tell that, aside from the blatant hatred, there was the deep need to protect what the Dwarf saw as his in that gaze. He figured the look he was giving Thorin made the Dwarf slightly angrier, for Thorin turned his gaze away with a bit of a snarl.

Elrond was not the last to receive that hateful gaze, for it was directed at both Elladan and Elrohir as soon as they crowded around Bilbo. Bilbo felt as though he were back in his element again, and he smiled as the two Elves began to ask him questions.

“How are things in the Shire? Have you been well?”

“You haven’t visited in ages; are you bored with our company?”

“Did you bring with you any of those extremely sweet peaches? I’ve had a taste for them for a while now.”

“Oh, show us one of your tricks again!”

“Oh, yes! Show us!”

Whenever he got the chance to, Bilbo loved to dote on children (even if they were Elves and Dwarves that were years older than him; it was still cute). When Elladan and Elrohir didn’t back down from their request for Bilbo to show them some of his magic, Bilbo conceded. He had dealt with their stubbornness before and, frankly, it rivaled Dwarven stubbornness. He looked over at Elrond, who had finished speaking with Gandalf and was speaking with Thorin. He then looked back to Elladan and Elrohir.

“Alright then, I’ll show you a trick or two over dinner,” Bilbo sighed, though he smiled at the looks of triumph on their faces.

\------

“You’re a wizard, Bilbo!” Kili stated in awe as he watched Bilbo say a spell and make his water change colours. The trick was old, one Elladan and Elrohir had seen before, but it was incredibly new to the Dwarves, considering the fact that they had thought Bilbo average (until the trolls anyway).

“Not a wizard,” Bilbo rolled his eyes. He thought of something else he could do, when one of the tricks he’d recently perfected for the fauntlings of the Shire came to mind. He knew the Elf twins hadn’t seen it before, and so he decided it would be a good one to show them. By now, he had every Dwarves attention as well.

“Here’s a new one,” he smiled, looking at Elladan and Elrohir. He took his napkin, folding it a few times and then covering it with his hands. He muttered a spell and then looked around the table at each of the Dwarves. Just briefly, his eyes caught Thorin’s and he directed a smile his way before Bilbo opened his hands.

“Wow!” Fili gawked in shock as a bunny hopped out of his hands and onto the table. Everyone around him was stunned into silence, which made Bilbo feel rather triumphant. Then there was clapping from Elladan and Elrohir.

“That was truly amazing, Bilbo!” Elrohir praised.

“Yes, how did you do that?” Elladan wanted to know. Bilbo shook his head.

“Can’t tell you that, lads. Sorry,” he chuckled warmly. The bunny on the table continued to hop around, stopping occasionally to eat the vegetables and whatnot. Bilbo leaned his chin on one hand, watching the bunny go.

It took a while before the Dwarves fully recovered, but as soon as they did, they were immediately on Bilbo about what else he could do.

“We didn’t know you could do magic, Bilbo!” Bofur pointed out.

“Frankly, I wasn’t exactly hiding it. Gandalf didn’t dry those clothes you know,” Bilbo couldn’t help bringing up the incident with the clothing, for he didn’t want the others to believe that it actually _had_ been Gandalf that had done what he had. Elladan and Elrohir both snorted at that, however.

“All he’s shown you is that he can dry clothing? You’re out of practice, Bilbo!” Elladan chided.

“Didn’t you save whole villages when you were younger?” Elrohir inquired.

“ _Whole villages?!_ ” Ori squeaked, looking at Bilbo as though he were some sort of great spectacle. Bilbo felt the tips of his ears turn bright red.

“That was when I was younger. I don’t just go around to villages now,” he amended.

“But that doesn’t change the fact that you saved entire villages!” Dori pointed out.

Bilbo heaved a heavy sigh but knew he wasn’t gonna get out of this one without a bit of help. He looked over at Thorin, who was rising with Gandalf and Elrond, and once again caught his eye. They had more of the silent communication that they had mastered, Bilbo silently pleading with the leader of their company to help him out of his current predicament. Thorin took pity on him, judging by the soft look on his features, the first look that wasn’t completely sour since arriving in Rivendell. He inclined his head a bit, gesturing in the direction they were about to head in.

“Balin,” Thorin called. Balin looked up but understood what Thorin wanted. He stood, following after him. “And Master Baggins. Join us, if you will.”

Bilbo exhaled a breath at being saved from having to explain himself to the Dwarves. He stood quickly and followed behind Thorin, sticking rather close, as the Dwarves and the Elf twins chattered to one another. Most likely about him.

The walk was incredibly quiet, but that was fine for Bilbo. He and Thorin walked side by side, and Bilbo noticed the looks that Thorin kept throwing him. He knew what that look meant. _You were hiding something from me._ Bilbo had to resist a bit of an eye roll, but he looked at Thorin with an expression on his face that stated clearly: _I wasn’t hiding anything from you._ And so they went back and forth like that, their expressions telling each other what they wouldn’t say aloud.

_You could have mentioned it._

_It wasn’t prevalent._

_It still would have been nice to know._

Bilbo shot Thorin a sour look. _It wasn’t really anyone’s business but my own._

And then Thorin looked away, and Bilbo felt a little bad. He walked slightly closer to Thorin, allowing their hands to brush together, ever-so-slightly. Thorin immediately looked down at their hands, and then at Bilbo. Bilbo gave him an apologetic smile, and allowed for their arms to brush. Thorin found that he couldn’t exactly stay mad for long, not at Bilbo. A small smile crossed his own features.

_I forgive you._

And then they slipped their hands together, holding on just slightly.

\------

Thorin’s happy mood disappeared entirely when Gandalf suggested allowing Elrond to see the map. Bilbo kept quiet, not wanting to get in the middle of this particular conversation, though he did quite agree with Gandalf’s statement about being saved from the stubbornness of Dwarves. Thorin was being extremely obstinate for no apparent reason aside from his apparent hatred of Elves; a hate that Bilbo saw as extremely pointless considering that they were currently in a house of Elves being treated as esteemed guests.

Bilbo figured that Thorin would meet his gaze because he recognized that if he looked at Bilbo he would crack earlier than he had, without all of Gandalf’s prying. And when Thorin finally gave up the map, it seemed as though they could finally get somewhere. Elrond seemed rather surprised to see the map himself.

“Erebor? What is your business there?” he questioned. Thorin didn’t get a chance to answer, for Gandalf answered in his stead.

“It’s purely academic,” he lied, rather smoothly as well. Bilbo would have believed it had he not known the truth.

Elrond seemed to accept this explanation for now, and continued as he read the map. He murmured a phrase in Dwarvish, and Gandalf sighed heavily.

“Moon runes… Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo you guys are gonna see a lot of plant names here and, since I'm a sucker for the meaning of plants, most, if not all, the flowers and whatnot mentioned will have a special meaning. And I will tell you the meaning down here in the notes at the end of the chapter like so:
> 
> Lavender - Love/Devotion
> 
> Amethyst (The flower) - Admiration
> 
> Also, I admittedly dislike when twins are portrayed by the same actor. I understand when they're identical but still... I was reading another fic (The fic being [The Oak and The Ash](http://archiveofourown.org/works/937441/chapters/1825918) by sunryder - check it out if you haven't already!) and liked the authors idea for Elladan and Elrohir so I use Matt Bomer for Elladan and Henry Cavill for Elrohir (sue me). Also, if they're extremely out of character that's because *looks left and right and then whispers* I never saw the Lord of the Rings Trilogy.


	4. The Infatuation of A King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin doesn't like Elves, but Bilbo is someone he's found himself liking a little more than he thought he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo yep. Here it is. Shorter chapter, sorry.

They would not see a moon of the same shape and season for another two weeks. This meant that they would have to stay in Rivendell until then. It was quite obvious that Thorin absolutely _hated_ the idea of staying at the Last Homely House for longer than another day, but they needed to know what was on that map and Bilbo simply wouldn’t allow him to say no. Persuasion was something Hobbits were good at, because they had keen senses that told them how to haggle with another person to get what they want.

And speaking of Hobbits, Thorin Oakenshield found himself slowly falling for one.

It was gradual, of course. He’d known from the night in Bilbo’s house that he’d felt some kind of way around Bilbo. At first he chalked it up to anger at a Hobbit, a bloody _Halfling_ being invited on their quest with them. A Hobbit that, seemingly, knew nothing of the world outside of his comfortable home and warm hearth. A Hobbit that had adamantly said no to joining them in the beginning, and though that had made Thorin marginally upset (for whatever reason) he was glad that Bilbo wasn’t coming on their journey with them. It was better if he stayed in his little Hobbit Hole.

Then, of course, Bilbo had run up to them, surprising everyone in the Company but Gandalf. Thorin had felt some odd feeling in his chest at seeing the Halfling, a feeling that elevated when he saw the smile on Bilbo’s face after being welcomed into the company. He had hid the feeling, however, since he wasn’t to show such weak emotions in the face of the Dwarves he was leading. He’d ordered to give Bilbo a pony, and they set off once more.

Along the way Bilbo had surprised him multiple times. First with sleeping near him that first night on the ridge, and then on the road. He had watched Bilbo with Fili, Kili, and Ori, and it made him happy to see Bilbo entertaining and entertained by the Dwarven lads, especially since they were hard to please at times. He seemed a natural with children (though Thorin had to remind himself that the three of them were adults); fawning over them and scolding them almost as though they were his own. Thorin could see him as a wonderful father of Dwarven children, though possibly a bit soft.

The surprises continued when they began to build up their silent communication with each other. They had whole conversations through looks only, and Thorin found out more about Bilbo through simply looking at him than he probably would have speaking to him. He learned of Bilbo’s love for plants through the embroidered flowers on his cuffs, which covered hands that liked to push stray curls of golden brown back from his face. He learned that Bilbo had the faintest scar along his neck, where it seemed that someone had attempted to slit his throat through Bilbo lifting his head up high in a challenge; he learned that, though Bilbo seemed to refuse to admit it, Bilbo loved a good challenge. They had many staring contests.

Thorin Oakenshield could only find more and more about Bilbo Baggins to love; he could only find things that made Thorin feel as though the Halfling, _his_ Halfling, was his One. And the thought of Bilbo being his One was both exciting… and frightening. The rush of excitement of finding the one person he was meant to spend his life with made everything about Bilbo being on the quest with them wonderful. But the thought of Bilbo being hurt, of something bad happening, made Thorin worry for Bilbo’s safety, and he didn’t want Bilbo to take this quest with them.

So he did the only thing he knew how to. He tried to shut Bilbo out.

He wouldn’t meet Bilbo’s gaze whenever Bilbo tried to look at him. He refused to smile even when his heart ached at the sad look he was given when he didn’t; he said harsh things he didn’t mean to try to dissuade Bilbo from continuing onward, feeling as though this was the only way he could protect the Halfling he wanted to call his One.

Things changed, once they entered the Valley of Imladris. Elves were hated by Dwarves; for Thorin knew first hand that they were not a people that could easily be trusted. Though Elrond seemed much different from cold and cruel Thranduil, he found he still could not easily trust the Lord. His disdain grew further when Lord Elrond had the nerve to actually _hug_ Bilbo. His glare was so hot, it was amazing that the pillars around them hadn’t caught fire and burned to the ground. Elrond was the only one to notice his gaze, and sent a smile his way as Elladan and Elrohir crowded about Bilbo.

“Careful there, Thorin,” Dwalin’s voice rumbled next to Thorin, “If the Elf Lord thinks you’re insultin’ his sons he might rescind his invitation of food.”

Thorin snorted. “He won’t do anything of the sort, not with two “old friends” here as they are.”

“Aye, but he might decide to give us but a few scraps in the stead of real food.”

Thorin shook his head. “This Elf seems too kind to do something of the sort.”

Dwalin glanced back toward Elrond, who seemed to keep a permanent smile on his face, and then agreed with Thorin.

\------

At first, Thorin thought it was Gandalf who kept changing the colours of Bilbo’s water. But Gandalf was having a deep conversation with Lord Elrond in the Elven language. Glancing back over at Bilbo, he caught his eye, though completely by accident. Still, Bilbo sent a tiny smile his way and then opened his hands onto the table. There were many gasps of alarm and then silence. Only a moment or so had passed and then the two sons of Elrond made excited noises, clapping and praising the Hobbit.

The sounds from the others made Thorin raise an eyebrow, but then Gandalf was suggesting they show his map to Elrond, one of the only people in all of Middle-Earth who could actually read it. There was a bit of bickering before they all stood and Thorin looked back to the other table. Bilbo was giving him a pleading look, one that made Thorin’s lips quirk upward in the tiniest smile and he inclined his head.

“Balin,” he called. Balin looked up from his spot next to Bilbo, the only one that hadn’t questioned Bilbo at all, and understood what Thorin wanted of him. He stood, following after the Dwarf King.

“And Master Baggins. Join us, if you will,” Thorin continued. Bilbo looked grateful to be able to excuse himself from the company of the Elf Twins and the other Dwarves. He hurried behind them, walking at a moderate pace; one Thorin fell back and into step with.

He didn’t exactly know what to say to Bilbo. He had gotten a look at the table when he’d stood, seeing that there was a white rabbit on it, one that had most certainly _not_ been there at the start of dinner, and he could only chalk it up to the apparent magic Bilbo had. This was something he’d known nothing about, something he hadn’t been able to figure out through their communication. But now that he knew it, he didn’t know if he should feel lied to or as though Bilbo hadn’t been able to trust him. He let this be known through their communication.

Bilbo was frustrating at times, extremely so. It made it hard for Thorin to let him know that it wasn’t exactly anger he felt, but a deep hurt for not being told. But as frustrating as Bilbo could be at times, Thorin found that he couldn’t exactly stay mad, especially when Bilbo allowed their hands to brush together and walked a little closer to him. That little act had Thorin glancing at their hands, and then at Bilbo’s face. Bilbo apologized with his eyes and a smile, and Thorin found himself smiling back again.

He slipped their hands together and told Bilbo how he felt without once opening his mouth.

_I forgive you._

\------

Thorin’s good mood disappeared entirely when he was reminded of the fact that he had to show Elrond the map.

And that brought him back to the current moment. They had to stay in Rivendell for another two weeks in order to read the map, or else they would never know how to get into Erebor, and that was information they desperately needed. Though Thorin was prepared to head in blindly, his Hobbit would not let him do anything of the sort. And Thorin found himself being able to resist Bilbo less and less when he pushed for things. So they were staying in Rivendell for just two more weeks, and not a moment more.

Bilbo wasn’t exactly making it easy to want to stay, however.

He wore clothing of Elvish make, allowed the Elves to braid odd flowers into his hair, and partook in the oddest of Elven traditions. Thorin hated seeing Bilbo in the element of their enemy—even if Gandalf said that the Elves were not his enemy. They may as well have been. Thorin wanted to see Bilbo in a different type of clothing, ones that were neither Hobbit nor Elven.

No, he wanted to see Bilbo in Dwarven clothing. He wanted to see beads, made by his own hand, braided into Bilbo’s hair instead of those odd flowers. He wanted to give Bilbo flowers that grew around Erebor, flowers such as red Daisies, and a single red rose in full bloom. He had known not many florists in his lifetime, but he’d had many admirers in the Blue Mountains. He’d had the meaning of certain flowers explained to him by women desperately in love. Because he knew of Bilbo’s love for plants, he wanted to give him the things that meant “I love you.”

But not yet. Not until they had reclaimed Erebor and he had taken his place on the throne with Bilbo at his side. Of everything that he was to have when they reclaimed their home, Bilbo by his side was the one thing he wanted more than anything else. He wanted to claim his One for his own, before it became too late or he did something he would regret. That was another reason why he didn’t want to stay in Rivendell for any longer.

Presently, Thorin was sitting with Dwalin, Nori, and Gloin. The entire company, sans Gandalf, sat around a fire together, talking and having a rather good time, one that was much better than when they had been sitting with the Elves (minus Elladan and Elrohir; Fili and Kili found that the Elf twins were absolutely _brilliant_. They had almost as much fun with the twins as they did with the company). Bilbo was sitting in a chair with a pipe, given to him by the Elves once they’d learned he’d left his own back in Bag End. He hadn’t undone the braids in his hair, but he was now gently untangling the flowers, somehow managing to do it without mussing the braids at all.

Fili and Kili were on him in an instant.

“What’s that?” they asked, pointing to one of the flowers on the table. Bilbo smiled good naturedly, a bit of a glint to his eye.

“The Elves aren’t very good with flora. They don’t know what most of the flowers they used mean,” he started off. He began to thread the flowers around each other, creating a crown.

“There are red tulips, purple violets, primrose, yellow pink and, goodness, _lobelia_? They really don’t know flowers. They must have simply thought it pretty and decided to do what they wanted with it.” Bilbo tsked, looking the flowers over a little more before he placed the crown he’d made down. Fili and Kili looked at it, and then at Bilbo.

“What does lobelia mean?” Kili asked.

“A very terrible Hobbit that tries to make off with all of your silverware in her pockets,” Bilbo snorted. The two Dwarves didn’t understand, but Ori, who knew the story, made a noise like a stifled giggle. Bilbo glanced over at him with a smile and then back to Fili and Kili.

“What does it really mean?” Fili inquired.

Bilbo hummed, wondering if he should say with Thorin so near. He didn’t want any of his Elven friends to get into trouble because of him, but he could do little to stop Fili and Kili from trying to force the information out of him somehow. He picked up a lobelia petal from his lap, turning it over in his fingers, and then he spoke again.

“Lobelia means malevolence. When I found that out I knew exactly why her parents had given her that name, or rather I could assume that she managed to live up to it. Unlike my mother, Belladonna, who was the complete opposite of her namesake,” he started.

“What did her name mean?” Ori asked suddenly, for he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t listening for much longer.

Bilbo swelled with pride as he spoke. “My mother, Belladonna Baggins nee Took, was an adventurer. She was the greatest magic wielder ever I do like to think. She was boisterous and extremely wonderful in every way possible. Her namesake, the belladonna lily, means silence, and can be used to kill someone in lethal doses. My mother was never a silent woman, thanks to her Took blood.”

Some of the other Dwarves had tuned in to what he was saying, seemingly surprised at the way Bilbo spoke so boldly of his mother. Bilbo’s adoration was clear in his voice, and he continued on, unknowing that he had a larger audience than he initially thought.

“Oh, she was so lovely! She was beautiful and brilliant and unique! She was one of the only Hobbits born to the Shire to have magic in her veins, and she married my father, Bungo Baggins. And oh, what a terrific Hobbit he was! He was the greatest Herbologist of all time. Wrote almost every book there is on plants. Mixed remedies and protected the children of the Shire from the most dangerous of plants!” Bilbo stopped suddenly and sighed, looking down at the flowers in his hands. He sniffed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the handkerchief given to him by the Elves of Rivendell and dabbing at his eyes a little.

“They were the greatest parents. I really do miss them sometimes,” he said softly. When he looked up, he saw that all eyes were on him. He hadn’t even realized he’d gone into a bit of a rant until he saw the looks on their faces. Oh, he must have been so loud! And boasting of his parents; how terrible of him! He wasn’t being too sensitive at all. After all, he had no idea who had lost their parents when Smaug the Terrible came to Erebor, and there he was just yammering on.

Bilbo stood, patting the pants given to him by the Elves, and cleared his throat. “Um. Well then. I best be off to bed. Err. Good night.”

And with that, he scurried off as quickly as possible, the flower crown left behind in his stead. The Dwarves watched him go, still in silence.

And Thorin Oakenshield found himself falling even more in love with his little Halfling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flower translations:
> 
> Red Daisies - Beauty Unknown to Possessor
> 
> A single Rose in full bloom - I love you, Simplicity
> 
> Red Tulips - Declaration of Love
> 
> Purple Violets - You occupy my thoughts
> 
> Primrose - I Can't Live Without You
> 
> Yellow Pink - Disdain
> 
> Lobelia - Malevolence


	5. The One Who Wouldn't Give Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They left Rivendell, but how far have they truly gotten?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is shorter because I hit a huge, and I mean HUGE wall while writing it. I typed and deleted it several times over and renamed it again and again, and I'm still not satisfied with it but I dislike not updating for long periods of time. So. Here.

They needed to leave immediately.

Durin’s Day would be upon them soon. They knew that the keyhole would appear during sundown, and they knew that if they didn’t leave soon they would miss their opportunity. Even Bilbo, who wanted to stay just a few days more, knew that they couldn’t wait for much longer. They packed up and gathered supplies from the Elves, supplies they planned on reimbursing the Elves of Rivendell for after they had reclaimed the Lonely Mountain. They didn’t sleep that night, choosing instead to pack everything together.

By the first light of the sun, they had set out. Gandalf conversed with the council, but while this happened the Company had already gone. They were nearing the first ridge of mountain, where the edge of the wild began, when Bilbo stopped to look back. As the others marched on, Bilbo could only stare at the place he had considered his second home. He would miss the Last Homely House, where he had learned so much about himself and his mother. He didn’t know if he would come back from this quest, so he took one last, long, look at it.

“Master Baggins,” Thorin called, “We had best keep moving.”

“Right, right,” Bilbo sighed. He turned and marched, and on they trekked, across the wild to where the Misty Mountains lied in the distance.

\------

Bilbo could only protect a few them when they found themselves caught in the middle of a battle between Stone Giants. It was significantly easier when it was reduced to simply seven of them, but even then his magic would only extend to six, leaving one of them completely open. He felt that if it had to be any of them that possibly died, it should have been him, for he didn’t exactly belong in a Company of Dwarves that was on a mission to reclaim a kingdom that wasn’t even his. With all his might and strength, he pushed his magic out and surrounded the six Dwarves around him.

But Bilbo was a Baggins, and as much as the Baggins family hated to admit it, they had the best luck in the world. Though it looked as though Bilbo would find himself speared with the point of a rock through his chest, the Stone Giant’s knee collided it with it first, and the force of the action jerked all of them forward onto the cliff side. The Dwarves, still protected by his magic, landed unharmed. But Bilbo was not as fortunate, for he ended up hanging from the side of the cliff.

It was still raining, the rocks were slippery and Bilbo had to wonder if he would meet his end here. Falling to his death didn’t sound bad, per say, but if there was one thing he definitely didn’t want to do, it was die. Not when he still wanted to do more for the world. Not when he wanted Thorin to know that he cared about them, that even though Thorin had told him plenty of times before that he shouldn’t have come, he would stay until the end.

Maybe that’s why it hurt the way it did once Thorin saved him and then told him he should never have left his home. Because he didn’t want to leave. He had thought of Bag End, multiple times, but he never wanted to leave them and go back to his boring Hobbit Hole where everything was quiet. He had left adventure behind for ten long years, and now that she had come and taken a hold of him he never wanted her to let go again.

And though it did hurt to consider leaving, he had to make a decision. He would trek ahead. Reach the Lonely Mountain and prove to Thorin that he could be useful. He wanted to prove that he could be someone Thorin could place his faith in, someone Thorin didn’t have to feel as though was completely useless. He packed his things all together and prepared to leave. Though, he hadn’t anticipated Bofur stopping him.

“Where are you going?” He asked.

Bilbo had to think up something on the fly, so that Bofur didn’t try to come with him.

“Rivendell. Back to Rivendell,” he said. It was a lie, but a little white lie couldn’t hurt. Little did he know, there was another listening in on their conversation.

“What do you mean?” Bofur frowned.

“I don’t belong with you all. Thorin… he said so himself. I just need to go back,” he said, and only part of that was a lie. He didn’t belong with the Dwarves.

“No! You can’t go back now; we’ve come so far!” Bofur looked crestfallen, heartbroken even.

“I know that, but I can’t stay where I’m not wanted.” Bilbo threw him a smile. “You’ll see me again, I promise.”

Bofur looked as though he still didn’t want Bilbo to leave, but he smiled, albeit a little sadly.

“I wish you all the luck in the world then. I really do.”

Bilbo almost didn’t want to leave after that, but his plans to go were rudely interrupted by the floor beneath their feet opening up and sending every last one of them through, and then Bilbo was separated from Thorin and the rest of the Dwarves.

\------

_“What has roots that nobody sees, is taller than trees, up, up it goes, and yet never grows?”_

“…Mountains!”

_“Voiceless it cries, wingless flutters, toothless bites, mouthless mutters.”_

“Wind.”

_“It cannot be seen, cannot be felt, cannot be heard, cannot be smelt. It lies behind stars and under hills, and empty holes it fills. It comes out first and follows after, ends life, kills laughter.”_

“Darkness…”

_“This thing all things devours; birds, beasts, trees, flowers; gnaws iron, bites steel; grinds hard stones to meal; slays king, ruins town, and beats mountain down.”_

“…Time? Time!”

**“What have I got in my pocket?”**

\------

The children of the Shire had always been fascinated by the fact that Bilbo could solve any riddle they threw at him, even the harder ones they had learned from the older Hobbits. _Riddles_ , Bilbo had said, _were the best way to get the mind going._ They forced you to think, and in thinking about the answer to a riddle, you remembered something you had forgotten. Bilbo had always given the Hobbits of the Shire riddles when they came to him looking for help to remember something. And though some never answered his riddles, they remembered things such as relatives in Bree or a secret hiding place out in the forestlands.

Riddles saved Bilbo’s life.

Yes, he had been extremely panicked down in the Goblin Tunnels, when the being known as Gollum had made a bargain with him. It had been extremely lucky that he’d been able to answer the riddles thrown at him, especially in the state of mind he’d been in. The very thought of being eaten had not appealed to him at all. So finding what he had, a gold ring that held an extraordinary power (invisibility!) had been the best thing to happen to him on the quest (along with meeting Thorin and the others of course), and it had saved his life.

Bilbo also remembered Gandalf’s words when he saw the Company hurry pass, just ahead of him. Gollum stood between him and them, where he needed to be. Unsheathing the blade given to him by his old friend, Bilbo held it to Gollum’s throat. But that was when the words echoed in his mind once more. True courage… Knowing not when to take a life, but when to spare one. Bilbo looked at Gollum, the creature’s face showing true sadness for a reason Bilbo didn’t want to fathom. He sheathed his blade.

\------

“Our Hobbit is long gone.”

Bilbo didn’t know if he was hurt by the words, for Thorin should have known that he would never actually leave, or angered, because Thorin thought that he actually _had_ left. Never would he leave them to face Smaug the Terrible without a burglar. He was their ticket into Erebor to reclaim it; he wouldn’t leave them to the wolves. Or rather, the Wargs.

“Nope. I’m right here,” he said as he stepped out from behind the tree he stood behind.

They all looked to him and then rushed at him with hugs, the three young ones at the forefront. Dwalin hung back with Thorin, snorting when the others bombarded Bilbo with questions. He looked at Thorin, who seemed more relieved than shocked to see Bilbo more or less safe. Dwalin could see it, and he made a silent vow to himself that he would protect Bilbo if he could. If Bilbo brought about the happiness Thorin sought, then Dwalin would do everything in his power to ensure that they could be together.

“But you slipped away from the Goblins!” Nori said in surprise.

“Not really, one kind of tackled me… down into a pit…” Bilbo replied. He left off the bit about him finding the ring and facing down Gollum—for now.

“Well then, now that we’re all here!” Gandalf smiled. Bilbo looked up at the Wizard, smiling himself.

“Yes! Right then.” Bilbo turned to Thorin, who he gave a levelled gaze.

“See, Dwarves and Hobbits are different for many reasons, Master Oakenshield,” he started, walking toward Thorin, who now seemed surprised to have the Halfling’s eyes on him, “For one, a Hobbit doesn’t give up just because one appears to have turned his back on the others. I wouldn’t have left you all, not now, not ever. Because while I have thought of my bed, my books, my pipe, and my petunias…”

Bilbo stepped so that he was directly in front of Thorin, looking up at him with a fierce determination in his eyes. Thorin could see a fire behind those eyes, a fire that burned brighter than the fire in the belly of the beast they were going to slay. There was a challenge behind those eyes as well, the same type of challenge he would get when Bilbo wanted to have a staring contest with him, the same type of challenge that would manifest in Bilbo’s eyes when Thorin tried to argue with Bilbo on a point that they both knew Bilbo was right on.

“I would never leave you. Not when you need me the most.”

And Thorin wasn’t entirely sure that Bilbo was talking about the quest.


	6. The Spell-Caster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fatigued after battle, Gandalf takes the Company somewhere to rest. Old memories are dug up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I turned on my TV and the scene during An Unexpected Journey when Bilbo stands in front of Thorin to protect him was on, and my fingers just started flowing across the keyboard.

Azog the Defiler truly was a formidable foe. Bilbo wondered what had possessed him to step in front of Thorin Oakenshield and raise his sword, nearly costing him his life in doing so. Azog cared for no Dwarf or Hobbit. He ordered his Orcs to cut down anything that stood in the way of the end of the line of Durin, and that included the Hobbit before him. Bilbo, however, absolutely would not have this. He stood in the way, muttering a steady chant that sounded vaguely like gibberish, but Gandalf seemed to recognize it all too well

The Pale Orc seemed to be familiar with it as well, for Azog merely laughed in Bilbo’s face. Bilbo kept up his mantra, however, ignoring the way the Orcs continued to close in on him. He needed to finish this spell or else they would be done for, and they were just barely half-way through their quest. He simply had to buy Gandalf a little more time; they only need a few more minutes.

The fire around them raged ever higher, and it was beginning to dawn on the Dwarves what is was Bilbo was doing. He was _controlling_ the flames, sending them higher and higher in walls to keep the Orcs from getting too close. The ones that were bold enough to get close were burned by the inferno surrounding them. The Dwarves would have rooted for their Hobbit had they not been dangling over a cliff edge, so close to falling to their deaths. Even if Thorin and Bilbo managed to survive, the others wouldn’t.

Gandalf had only needed a little more time before he received word from an old friend that they would be given help. He looked over to Bilbo, who still stood in front of Thorin, though his breathing seemed slightly more laborious than before. Gandalf knew that it wasn’t often anymore that Bilbo did spells such as the one he kept up currently, so it must have been taking a toll on the Hobbit’s body.

“Can’t hold on—!” Dori yelled from where he was below Gandalf. Gandalf looked down at him and Ori, who were both holding on for dear life, Dori to Gandalf’s staff and Ori to Dori’s leg.

“Just a little longer!” Gandalf shouted back. He looked up into the distance, where he could see the figures coming toward them now.

Bilbo breathed shallowly through his nose and mouth. He took his eyes off his opponents for only a second to look back at Thorin, who had lost consciousness. Taking his eyes off of Azog had been a mistake, for the flames waned when he did so, allowing the Orcs as well as the Defiler through. Bilbo looked back and then swung his sword, managing to slice at the snout of the Warg before him. In this time, some of the others, Fíli, Kíli, Dwalin, Gloin, managed to head into battle as well, seeing that Bilbo wouldn’t be able to fend off seven Orcs by himself.

Dori felt his hands slipping, and before he knew it, he and Ori were falling, heading down at an extremely fast rate. Before they got too far, however, they landed on the back of a great bird, which flew away from the cliff side as soon as they were safe upon his back. Gandalf sighed with relief as the Dwarves were picked up and carried away one by one. The Eagles also took it upon themselves to grab up Orcs with their Wargs and drop them over the edge of the cliff, sending them to their deaths.

An Eagle flew behind Bilbo, picking up Thorin and flying off. Bilbo didn’t need prompting to head to the cliff edge and jump, knowing he would be caught by an old friend; Ári. The great Eagle swooped low and caught Bilbo, flying off behind the others. Bilbo leaned his head against the Eagle’s back, panting as if he had run for miles. His friend noticed, expressing concern in his words.

“You have worked yourself too hard,” Ári stated rather than asked. Bilbo shook his head against Ári’s feathers.

“I was protecting someone dear to me,” Bilbo replied. Instead of responding, Ári merely huffed. Bilbo looked over Ári’s wings to another Eagle, Arivor, who held onto Thorin.

“Rest, Bilbo Baggins, the Dwarf will see another day,” Ári said, trying to comfort Bilbo somewhat.

Bilbo only hoped that Ári was correct.

\------

Thorin simply could not _believe_ that Bilbo had stepped in front of Azog, that Bilbo had fought off Orcs for _him_ , the person that had told him that he didn’t belong and needed to simply leave. If there was one thing that Thorin had not expected of his Hobbit, it was for him to actually protect Thorin. However, the act had been reckless and Bilbo had completely disregarded the danger of the situation. Bilbo could have been killed.

Even still, Thorin pulled Bilbo into a tight hug. Never had he been so terrified for someone’s life as he had been for Bilbo’s, but Bilbo had shown great courage in what he had done. Bilbo was surprised to be pulled into a hug. Nevertheless, he hugged Thorin back, wrapping his arms around the Dwarf King and inhaling the scent of the Earth; the scent of coal and the burning of forges; the scent of metal, molded into great weapons.

“I’ve never been so glad to be wrong in all my life,” Thorin whispered in Bilbo’s ear.

Bilbo’s smile grew even larger, and he squeezed just a little tighter.

\------

Fatigue threatened Bilbo’s frame as the Company walked through the lands, following Gandalf. There was apparently a place not far from them, a half-way house of sorts, where an old friend of both Gandalf and Bilbo lived. Gandalf knew that Bilbo couldn’t handle walking too much longer, so he hurried the Dwarves along. Bilbo tried not to seem as tired as he actually was, but his fatigue was noticed by Oín.

“You seem tired,” the medical Dwarf said.

“I’m fine, don’t worry,” Bilbo responded back, smiling. Oín didn’t seem to believe him, but left things alone since he could do nothing to help Bilbo in that moment.

The younger Dwarves picked up on this as well, slowing so that their pace matched Bilbo’s.

“You were amazing, Bilbo!” Kíli gushed, grinning, a twinkle in his eye.

“Yes! That spell was fantastic!” Ori added on.

“But you don’t seem your usual self now,” Fíli said. Ori looked at Fíli and then at Bilbo.

“Are you alright, Bilbo?” he asked.

“Yes, yes. Just a little sleepy. Hobbits aren’t used to battle you know,” Bilbo chuckled. To keep the young ones from worrying too much, he made a show of yawning and stretching his arms above his head. This seemed to satisfy them, for they went instead to bother Gandalf about being close to their destination or not.

Once the three youngest Dwarves had moved away, Dwalin slowed to walk with Bilbo. He said nothing for a long while, and Bilbo found that he enjoyed the other’s company, as he didn’t ask prying questions nor did he try to see if Bilbo was alright. He seemed content to simply walk next Bilbo for a while.

Though the silence only lasted for a few minutes or so, before Dwalin said, “That was mighty brave of you.”

Bilbo was startled at the sudden words, for Dwalin had only attempted to make conversation with Bilbo once before, back when their journey had started in Bilbo’s Hobbit hole. Bilbo had never really had a chance to speak to Dwalin after that, since Dwalin usually stuck by Thorin, Balin, and occasionally Ori.

“Thank you?” Bilbo said in reply, though it was more a question.

“You need to be more careful,” Dwalin continued, as though Bilbo hadn’t even spoken, “Thorin would be lost if something were to happen to you.”

Bilbo didn’t know what to think of the words. He looked at Dwalin, who briefly looked at him, but flashed him a smile.

“If Thorin’ll fight for you, so will I.”

With those words, Dwalin sped up to walk next to Thorin, who had glanced back a few times to possibly catch a few words of their conversation. When Dwalin stood next to him once again, Thorin couldn’t resist asking, “What did you say to him?”

Dwalin shook his head. “Nothing.”

\------

Beorn looked pleasantly surprised to see Bilbo and Gandalf, the Hobbit more so than the Wizard. The large, burly, man welcomed the Company into his home with open arms, as a friend of his friend was always welcome. Bilbo had been too tired to go with Gandalf’s plan of going in two at a time so as not to overwhelm Beorn, instead leading all of them through to the door at once. Beorn, unable to contain his joy, had lifted Bilbo into a hug, before setting him on his feet once more.

“I expect Gandalf the Grey has a story to tell?” Beorn had said once everyone was settled inside of his home.

“Yes, actually. It is no mere coincidence we can across your home, Beorn, my friend,” Gandalf sighed. He lit his pipe, inhaling deeply and then releasing the smoke.

Bilbo didn’t stick around for the story, choosing instead to lay out the sleeping roll Beorn had provided him with and lying down upon it. Bilbo didn’t wake for the rest of the night.

\------

The next morning Bilbo felt much better. He breathed in a deep breath, a fat honey bee buzzing about his head. He stood from his little bed, stretching and nearly moaning at the wonderful sensation of popping in his back. Once he was satisfied, he headed toward the door, planning to go out into the fields or possibly to the stream not far from them to bathe. He had barely gotten a leg out when he was called by none other than Kíli.

“Master Boggins!” Kíli yelled, waving a hand toward him. He was with Fíli and Ori, as the trio were usually together. Bilbo smiled a bit, both at the name and at Kíli, before walking toward them to find out what was up.

“Yes?” he asked.

“We were wondering if you would keep us company for a while,” Ori said.

“And show us more magic!” Kíli added on.

“But only if you’re up to it,” Fíli said, elbowing his brother in the side.

Kíli looked at Fíli but nodded, glancing back at Bilbo. Bilbo hummed, pondering over the invitation for a moment before agreeing. He took up a seat in the grass, legs stretched out in front of him. The three Dwarfs surrounded him, eager to see magic happen. Bilbo thought it was nice to be able to entertain them.

He did simple tricks, changing the colours of the flowers and their petals, and he even grew a patch of daisies for them. His father used to beg him not to grow plants, because Bilbo had only ever been able to grow weeds. However, after his parents’ death, he had taken to making sure he could grow proper flowers. Every year, he went to his parents’ grave and grew a beautiful array of flowers to show how much he had changed over the years.

A time or two Bilbo would produce living, breathing, animals from seemingly nowhere. He let loose a whole flock of doves that flew high above the ground, and then he pulled a cat out of his clothing, a cat Fíli, Kíli, and Ori were all positive had not been on Bilbo’s person initially. Bilbo allowed them to keep it. The cat was lively, for it continuously made sure to keep the trio on their toes, as it didn’t stay still and lazy like most cats usually did.

Satisfied that the three would be occupied for a while, Bilbo stood and walked further into the fields. He had spent many a day in these pastures, tumbling about with his mother and being taught much by the animals. Bilbo didn’t consider himself an animal whisperer, but he had learned somewhat general language between them all. Many animals that were stressed made certain noises and Bilbo had managed to pick up on those noises.

Further into the meadow, Bilbo spotted something that had him fighting tears. A patch of flowers sat innocently near a large rock, but these weren’t just any flowers. These were Cinquefoil, the plant his mother had grown just for him when he had tumbled off that very rock and hit his head. His mother, Belladonna, had soothed the pain and then, to cheer him up, grew a patch of Cinquefoil. Bilbo hadn’t known yet what Cinquefoil was, as his father had yet to teach him what it was, but now, knowing exactly what he was looking at, he couldn’t help thinking of his mother and father.

Bilbo walked over to the flowers and kneeled before them. He stayed there for a long time, and the others didn’t bother him, for he asked anyone that came too close to leave him be. He was at his most vulnerable in that moment, physically and emotionally. He didn’t know if he wanted to weep or if he wanted to go home and pray to his parents. He wanted to ask them for help, because now he realized that their quest had grown ever harder the more love he felt growing for the leader of the company.

His father would know what to say. His mother would be able to comfort him. And like it had many times in his years, the fact that he would only see them again in death made the tears flow hot down his cheeks, he unable to stop them.

Bilbo didn’t turn when Thorin came and sat with him. He merely allowed for Thorin to place a hand on his shoulder, his actions once again speaking much louder than his words ever would.

_I’m here for you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More satisfied with this chapter than the last.
> 
> Cinquefoil - Beloved Child


	7. The Honorary Elf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over the river and through the diseased woods, to Thranduil's kingdom we go...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was also written on minimal sleep over a period of two months.

They could spend no longer in Beorn’s halls or they would miss Durin’s Day.

The group packed up their things and Beorn, in an act of kindness, allowed them the use of some of his ponies. He gave Gandalf a full grown horse of course; the Wizard would accept nothing less. Bilbo felt bad about not knowing what had happened to Myrtle. He missed her, but the pony he had been given, a black and white mare named Vista, cheered him up greatly with her wit and jokes. The others gave him strange looks occasionally when he chortled to himself about something she had said. He didn’t blame them; he must have looked odd, laughing when no one had told a single joke.

When they reached the border between Beorn’s lands and Mirkwood, they had to release the ponies and Bilbo had to bid Vista farewell. He walked toward the wood afterwards, a frown on his face now, and reached a hand up as if to touch the trees and then recoiled immediately. Bilbo knew something was not right, because he had not even touched the tree before him and already he felt that there was a poison about it; a poison that laid over the entirety of Mirkwood.

“This forest feels… sick,” he said now, loud enough for the others to hear him, “as if a disease lies upon it.” A disease that had spread since he had last been in the forest all those years ago.

“Is there no way around?” But Bilbo knew the answer to his own question. Gandalf gave him that look, the one that told Bilbo to stop being foolish.

“Not unless we go two hundred miles north, or twice that distance…” Gandalf stepped into the wood, looking about and trying to pinpoint how far along the disease had spread “…South.” The “you already knew this” wasn’t said aloud but Bilbo knew it was there.

“You have to guide them now, Bilbo,” Gandalf said softly now, walking over to Bilbo and speaking so that the Company couldn’t hear him.

“You’re leaving?” Bilbo said, possibly a little too loudly. The Dwarves rounded on Gandalf immediately, disliking the thought that he could possibly be headed anywhere but with them.

“There is business I must tend to,” Gandalf said, “Keep the map and key safe.”

He spoke directly to Thorin as he said that, and then turned and strode quickly to his horse. Mounting it, he looked back at the Dwarves once more. “Stay on the path, and _do not enter the mountain without me!_ ” And with that last warning he rode off, leaving the Dwarves and their Hobbit burglar to stare after him.

Bilbo knew exactly what Gandalf had meant when he had said that Bilbo had to lead the Dwarves forward. Bilbo wasn’t there to just steal into the Lonely Mountain and take something that most certainly wasn’t his to take, he was there as someone who could take their way in and out of sticky situations. Bilbo knew that the king of Mirkwood, Thranduil, would not be pleased to see _Dwarves_ running about, but once he saw Bilbo there was the possibility he would attempt to be more pleasant about things.

Falling back to walk between Bofur and Nori, Bilbo followed the others into Mirkwood, trying to dig up the little knowledge of the path through the forest he could remember. It was not much, but if worse came to worse, he would have to use one of the creatures still in the forest to send word to the Elves.

\------

Somehow they had managed to lose the path four, maybe five or six, days ago. Bilbo had been unable to recall whether they should have taken a left or a right at the split path until after they had taken the left. The two different routes had been the Elves’ way of making sure anyone who came into the forest couldn’t return immediately, because once you went left and continued on that route all that was left were turns and faux paths. Faux paths were paths that held cobble stone but didn’t actually lead anywhere, just looked as if they did.

Bilbo had been so sure of finding some type of wildlife that he hadn’t said anything after he realized they were going the wrong way. He figured it would be only a matter of time before they found a deer or a rabbit or even a mouse for that matter, but there was nothing. All the animals seemed to have fled Mirkwood long ago. Bilbo should have known. It was not the same as it had been when he’d travelled through it with his mother when he was younger, even less than when he’d travelled through by himself.

Everyone was beginning to hallucinate as well. They were out of food and the little water Bilbo managed to coax from the trees was almost pitch black because of the sickness in it. It was smaller still the amount he could actually give them once he managed to separate the pure water from the disease. Each Dwarf received what was essentially a small teacup full of water to drink once Bilbo managed to get it out of the trees. He was not so familiar with water magic anymore that he could do more for them.

Another day passed and Bilbo began to hallucinate as well. He had prided himself a bit on being the only one of the entire Company who hadn’t yet lost his mind, but the forest’s poison was finally starting to get to him as well.

“The sun,” he murmured absently at one point, “Need to find… find the sun.”

Luckily enough, the Company had stopped to bicker amongst one another, yelling and shouting and throwing insults this way and that, giving Bilbo the perfect opportunity to scale the nearest tree that would hold him. He managed to break through the canopy of the leaves after a few short minutes of climbing and the first touch of the sun rays on his face made him feel rejuvenated in the way a plant would after being deprived of sunlight for weeks on end.

“H-Hey! I can see a lake!” Bilbo shouted down at the Company, “And a river and—” The solitary peak in the distance had a surge of renewed hope bubbling up inside of him. “The Lonely Mountain!”

He received no reply however. Looking down, he couldn’t see whether the Company was still beneath him or not. The sound of something in the trees ahead, however, had concern welling up inside of him. He ducked back into the trees, the contrast between light and dark obvious even so close to open air. Bilbo could see a dark figure coming toward him through the webs and he realized too late just what it was.

It was as though the quest kept purposefully getting harder and harder, and as always, chaos was around the corner from the moment Bilbo fell.

\------

“Prince Legolas.”

Said Prince stiffened in shock when he heard the familiar voice of a Hobbit behind him. Bow still raised, he turned to look back at Bilbo, who was giving him that disapproving look that only Bilbo could manage when he was upset with Legolas. It really was quite interesting to watch; Legolas was hundreds of years older than Bilbo, had seen more in his lifetime than Bilbo ever would, and yet Bilbo still managed to make him feel like a child.

“Bilbo Baggins,” he said now, though he had yet to lower his bow.

“I was wondering when we’d run into you,” Bilbo continued, and he wrinkled his nose at the weapon in the Prince’s hand. “Put that away.”

“Bilbo, these Dwarves are trespassing-”

“They’re with me, Prince Legolas. We were simply passing through, but my memory is not what it used to be, and we managed to lose the path. Put it away, Legolas.” Bilbo gave Legolas his sternest look, and eventually Legolas broke. He lowered his bow, and in turn, the other Elves lowered their weapons as well. The Company watched in fascination as Bilbo smiled and Legolas looked away.

“Well, you are here… I suppose you would like to speak with my father,” he sighed.

“I would, thank you.”

The Elves began to lead them away, Legolas falling in step with Bilbo. They talked quietly for a bit in a language the Dwarves knew only as Elvish, Bilbo occasionally raising his voice here or there at this or that. At one point Legolas even looked a little guilty, though Bilbo managed to make him smile soon after.

It wasn’t long before they reached the Elven Kingdom hidden deep within Mirkwood, and then they were walking through its doors and into its halls. The twisting path seemed to go on forever, and at one point Legolas had the group split with Thorin and Bilbo following him, Bilbo to talk to Thranduil and Thorin because he would not leave Bilbo to wander with the Elves. This, of course, received protest first.

“Where are you taking Bilbo?” Fíli demanded, trying to pull the Hobbit back. Bilbo allowed Fíli to pull him, if only because it would be easier than attempting to struggle.

“We’re just going to talk to the King,” Bilbo said in an attempt to placate the Dwarves.

“Fortunately, you lot aren’t allowed before the King,” Legolas scoffed, looking as though the thought of _Dwarves_ speaking to his father was an outlandish one.

“Wherever Bilbo goes, we go,” Nori decided.

“And there’s nothing that’ll change that!” Bofur confirmed. Bilbo gave Legolas a bit of a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry, let me speak with them a moment.” He walked a bit of a distance away, ignoring the insult Legolas threw at the Company, and sighed as he ran a hand down his face. “I need to speak with the King.”

“So? Why can’t we come with you?” Kíli demanded, looking more like a pouty child.

“Because we’re looking for an appeal, not a reason to get escorted into the dungeon!” Bilbo hissed. He sighed and turned to Thorin. “Talk some sense into them.”

Thorin was quiet for a moment, a considering look on his face before he turned to Bilbo.

“I will accompany you,” he decided. Bilbo was ready to groan, but bit it back when Thorin barked out a rough order in the Dwarven language. The Company dropped their protective stances and stood back. Bilbo looked about in surprise before looking back to Thorin.

“Let’s go,” he gruffed. He had relaxed not once in the presence of the Elves.

“This way,” Legolas began to walk one way, another Elf, Tauriel Bilbo believed her name to be, leading the others in a completely different direction.

Thorin followed Legolas, albeit a little reluctantly. When Bilbo didn’t follow immediately Legolas glanced back.

“Bilbo?” he questioned.

Bilbo snapped out of his reverie to quickly follow behind the two. Thorin didn’t even acknowledge that Bilbo had caught up with them. Bilbo could only wonder if it was his fault or because Thorin simply couldn’t relax in the face of his “enemy.”

The doors were thrown wide and Legolas pointed them in. The King sat on his throne, as regal looking as ever. A frown marred his features when he saw Thorin, but a smile settled over his face when he spotted Bilbo. Completely ignoring the Dwarf, Thranduil swept from his seat and walked over.

“Bilbo Baggins, son of Belladonna Took,” he purred, walking a circle around Bilbo.

“King Thranduil…” Bilbo watched him, occasionally glancing at Thorin who seemed extremely skeptical.

“Such a pleasure to see you again. Though I never thought you were one for keeping company with…” There was an insult on his tongue, but Bilbo shook his head at him. “…Dwarves.”

“Yes, well, I never thought you were one to keep Spiders in your woods,” Bilbo shot back. The insinuation made Thranduil sneer.

“Tell me. What brings you through Mirkwood?”

Bilbo paused for a beat, trying to think up a lie to tell. Thorin, however, seemed to have other plans.

“That is none of your business,” he growled out.

“Oh? Isn’t it?” Thranduil turned his attention to Thorin now.

“The affairs of Erebor do not concern the Elves of Mirkwood.”

Clearly insulted but refusing to admit it, Thranduil took a step back. He walked back to his throne, sitting down again.

“Well, if the affairs of Erebor do not concern the Elves of Mirkwood, I suppose it would be fine if I requested _Bilbo_ to stay for a few days.” He smiled a serpentine smile. “After all, Bilbo is _Mellonamin._ He is a Hobbit and, in the eyes of my cousins to the West, an honorary Elf. In a way, the affairs of Erebor do not concern him either.”

Bilbo blinked in surprise at the logic Thranduil used, before he turned to Thorin. Thorin was fuming.

“Well, Dwarf? Your move.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has to be the worst chapter by far.


End file.
